


Lazarus Syndrome and the Muted Cure

by Silver__Hawk



Series: Batfamily: Mending Broken Hearts and Broken Minds [5]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Batbrothers (DCU) Bonding, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Damian Wayne Has a Heart, Damian Wayne is Robin, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Domestic Batfamily (DCU), Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Good Bro Dick Grayson, Good Bro Jason Todd, Good Bro Tim Drake, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd is So Done, Jason Todd-centric, Lazarus Pit, Lazarus Pit Madness, Protective Batfamily (DCU), Team as Family, Tim Drake is Red Robin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25167289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver__Hawk/pseuds/Silver__Hawk
Summary: "I need... I need you to clear... clear the cave. Get a temp... holding cell ready." Jason ground out, voice strained. To Batman, he might have even sounded injured. At the very least, the bat could easily ascertain that something was very very wrong."Affirmative." Bruce was clearly frowning. "Do we need to have the medical facilities waiting?""No!" Jason barked, losing it for just a moment. "No." He repeated. "Bruce... The cell's for me..."Jason Todd was finally doing okay. Until the league finds a way to reignite his pit insanity. In a last ditch effort to avoid killing anybody he's come to care about, Jason resorts to locking himself up in one of the holding cells of the batcave while the family works towards a solution.Of course Pit insanity, Claustrophobia related panic attacks, and cells aren't a great combo.And it doesn't help that the people he hates (?) Won't leave him alone while he's trapped in there.(Part 5 of my Batfamily: Mending Broken Hearts and Broken Minds series)Can be read as a standalone.
Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Bruce Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Batfamily: Mending Broken Hearts and Broken Minds [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755331
Comments: 64
Kudos: 358





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shadowassasin (Darkshardthedestroyer)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkshardthedestroyer/gifts).



James Gordon clutched a smoking cigarette between two fingers as he stood just away from the blazing batsignal. He learned early on not to let himself get in the way of the blinding beam of light. If a giant bat in the sky wasn't terrifying,a human shadow blocking the light and smoking a cigarette probably was.

Robin (2) had ridiculed him about _that_ incident for nearly a month.

So he'd learned to stick to the shadows, waiting for the Bat of Gotham to show up. But more recently, he hadn't been, not for the past five months that is. Believe it or not, James liked to think he was the bat's friend. And friends knew when someone was off their game. Right now, he was almost eighty percent certain that the man wearing the cowl, was not batman. Not _his_ batman.

He had slightly broader shoulders, and though his voice was on par, he didn't carry himself like the dark knight. He waited until Gordon was done talking before he departed, and he'd fight not to smile at whoever was working with him that night. It had been five months since the new bat showed up, and Gordon was tired of being kept out of the 'bat'-loop.

He didn't flinch when a pair of heavy combat boots thunked against the cement rooftop. He was beyond that, most of the time. Occasionally the bat still managed to surprise him -the old one,- and Gordon was _convinced_ the man took pleasure in making him jump, despite the usual stone faced disposition. Gordon put out his cigarette, dropping in the bin next to the signal and stepping out into the light. A silhouette was shrouded in the shadows, but Jim new without a doubt that once again, this was _not_ the bat.

Infuriating rascals. All of them.

"Not batman." He said, folding his arms. The man stepped into the light. Jim recognized him instantly as the more controversial vigilante on Batman's roster, though he hadn't caused any trouble in roughly a year. Jim raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry to disappoint, Commish. Batman's out of commission."

"Has been for a while." Jim said, not caring much if they were aware that he knew. "I'm assuming."

It was easy to see the wince, despite the emotionless helmet the kid wore. "Yeah... We've been having superman and Nightwing cover when they can.... But... Batman's... having a personal crisis right now. He'll be back one of these days; but for the meantime, it's just us holding down the fort."

"Not an easy job. But you're doing a fine job; all things considered." Gordon pointed out. "And we haven't had to fill any body bags from the aftermath of _your_ work-" Jason flinched. "-so it's going exceptionally well."

"About that-"

"Batman told me." Gordon cut him off. 'Mind control?"

"Something like that." Jason grumbled. No way was Jason going to admit to insanity. He didn't need that to worry Gotham's commissioner; and he most certainly didn't need a one way ticket to Arkham. "I've been keeping my nose clean."

"I've noticed." Gordon admitted, the faintest hint of a smile flickering across his lips. "You've done good work, Hood. All of you."

It must have been a figment of Jim's imagination, the way Jason's shoulders straightened ever so slightly; but whatever the emotion was, Jim couldn't pin it. Was it guilt? Had Hood done something? No, the bats would have cut ties with him. Then it dawned on Jim. How often did they hear 'good work?' Probably not often enough. The people of this city were ruthless and ungrateful. But then again, none of them did anything for praise or reward. They did it because they loved this city. But if that was Hood's reaction to hearing the words 'good work,' than it was truly a sad thing. Perhaps though, Gordon was simply putting too much thought into a reaction he couldn't properly gauge.

"However, as much as I wish it were the truth, I didn't call you here for praise." He continued. "Tetch, the Mad Hatter's, out of jail."

"Let me guess... good behavior?"

"Hardly. We think he snuck out in a laundry bin, with some inside help of course. We're reviewing video feeds and interviewing staff, not that I think it'll do any good. He's out there somewhere, and people are getting killed. We need to put a stop to it."

"We'll look into-" Gordon frowned when Hood grunted, fingers flying up to a long silver dart jutting out from the slats in his neck armor. With one fluid movement, he plucked it free, turning the needle nosed object over in his hand. There was a glass wall on one side, revealing the contents of the slender dart to be a green liquid. Instantly Hood took a step back, hands shaking.

"Hood?" Gordon, basing his estimation on the side the dart had flown, yanked his pistol from its holster, aiming at the rooftop to their right. He saw nothing. The moonlight was faint past the cloud cover, but he couldn't see the glimmer of metal. He strode over, wrapping an arm over Hood's shoulders and started jerking him towards the doorway leading down into the building. The kid must have been out of it, dart clutched in his left hand as he allowed Gordon to herd him inside.

The commissioner slammed the door shut and locked it before turning back to his young vigilante friend. "Hood?"

"I have to get out of here." Hood whispered, voice hard but terrified.

"We need to get you medical attention, a hospital, a clinic, _something._ We don't know what was in that dart, and-"

"I do." Hood cut him off, taking a firm step back. "And you don't want to be anywhere near me." Gordon paused. "I have to go, Commish. I'll send someone to... to... agh..." He gripped his helmet with one hand, shaking his head sharply. "Deal with Tetch." Every word was strained, pained almost.

"Hood-" Gordon spoke calmly. "Son. You need help.'

"Yeah." The kid laughed, his vocal changer making it sound as hollow and empty as the kid probably intended. "But you can't help."

* * *

_"Mistress Talia, your plan has worked flawlessly. The Red Hood has taken the bait; and the dart has been delivered."_

_"Excellent. And Tetch is still secure?"_

_"Affirmative. He'll be delivered back to Arkham on schedule."_

_"Good. Now we wait. If my father's assumptions are correct -as they usually are- Hood will keep the bats quite occupied while your team carries out phase two."_

* * *

Jason slammed the lobby doors open with a sharp shove. Gordon was still behind him, though keeping a safe distance. For that, Jason was incredibly grateful. He could feel the beginnings of the green haze threatening to shroud his vision, anger and hate and hurt bubbling up deep inside from the lock boxes he'd long ago closed up.

He was regressing, and he could feel it, and he was terrified. His bike was nestled in a little side alley. He needed to get to it, to get home. Gordon suddenly caught up, gently gripping his shoulder. Hood whirled around, gun in hand, aimed at the cop's chest. There was a moment of silence, horror welling up in his chest. His hand shook, and in one fluid movement, he'd spun the gun around, holding it by the barrel. His was jittery, not doing well.

"I'm going home." He growled quietly. He shook the gun slightly "Take it... please." It was a plea, and Gordon gripped the weapon, unloading the clip.

He was pleasantly surprised to see rubber bullets in the clip, not intended to kill but subdue. He could see the way Hood's shoulders were shaking, the way he was taking a step back. "I have to get home. Don't follow me. Only the bats can help."

Gordon tilted his head. "Can you make it?"

Hood's breath stuttered, clearly a fight to retain whatever jumpiness was ailing him. "I"ll make it." He ground out, hands clenching and unclenching. "But I need you to back off. I really don't want to hurt you, and this stuff is worse than scarecrow's fear toxin..." Despite the tense voice and the modulator, Gordon could tell the kid was being genuine. He just nodded, holding up the pistol Jason had given up so the barrel was pointed into the warm night air. 

"I'll hold onto this for safe keeping. Go get help, son."

* * *

Jason was holding it together. Barely. He realized that had he gotten the intended dose, the whole needle, he'd have lost it then and there. But he hadn't. For now, he seemed to be stuck at a jittery angry level that was still dangerous, but not downright sinister. For that, he was grateful. His mind was cloudy, body moving of its own accord as he sped his bike through several back alleys, for a quicker route.

He was tired. Oh so very tired. It'd be so easy to give into the hate. He could feel his desire to get rid of the replacement -no Tim- bubbling up. It'd be easy enough. They trusted him now. _No._ Jason shook his head, fingers tightening around the motorcycle grips until his knuckles turned a ghastly shade of white. With shaking, balking hands, he reached up and tapped the side of his helmet, opening his comm line to the cave.

"Hood... to cave." He ground out.

"This is Batman." Was the instant reply. "What's wrong, Hood?"

"I need... I need you to clear... clear the cave. Get a temp... holding cell ready." Jason ground out, voice strained. To Batman, he might have even sounded injured. At the very least, the bat could easily ascertain that something was very very wrong.

"Affirmative." Bruce was clearly frowning. "Do we need to have the medical facilities waiting?"

"No!" Jason barked, losing it for just a moment. "No." He repeated. "Bruce... The cell's for me. I was tagged... I think... I think it was the league... They... They tagged me with... Laz-Lazarus pit water." He let out a shaky breath. "I'm... I'm losing it Bruce." He whispered, a moment of clarity allowing the terror to seep through. "I'm losing it... I don't..." He swallowed, speeding his bike up as he spotted an access tunnel. "You can't let me... can't let me hurt anyone."

"Okay, Jason." Bruce breathed, voice tight with worry and apprehension. "Okay, just... Take a deep breath. Do you have the dart?"

" _Yes,_ What kind of moron do you take me for?"

"Good." Bruce pointedly didn't engage. "Get ready to hand it to me. I have one of the cells ready... Are you sure? I don't- I don't like the idea of locking you in one"

"It's either that or _Arkham!_ " Jason snapped. "And Arkham can't... can't hold me. I won't go there. Not while... Not while _he's_ there. I... I don't have a choice." He choked out. "I... I don't know if it'll get worse, but I already... I- I-"

"Alright, alright. You're right, Jason." Bruce replied calmly, the Bat finally taking over as he weighed the options and the risks. "Where are you?"

"Access Tunnel."

"Good. Have the dart ready."

"I _know._ "

Jason ground his teeth, shoulders aching at how tight they were. The tunnel opened up to the cave, and Bruce was waiting. Jason saw green. He was barely aware of stopping the bike, barely aware as he lunged at Bruce. He suddenly snapped back to awareness in a sturdy restraining grip. He growled in frustration, shaking slightly but no longer fighting.

"Jason." Bruce grunted. 'The dart, Jason."

He wanted to _kill_ Bruce, but a piece of him was clinging to decency. "Jacket... pocket... let me...." He grunted, making his arms obey, gripping the dart. He felt suddenly compelled to jam it into his own thigh, to get the full effects and finish what he started all those years ago. But his hand violently trembled, throwing it far away. It clattered on the floor. "Let me... let me go." Jason growled lowly, fixing his eyes on the cells. Bruce wavered, but his hands released Jason.

Jason bolted.

Bolted before his mind could remind him that this was an absolutely terrible idea, before the claustrophobia took over and made him balk at the door, before his hate for confined spaces won out and he fled the cave. He charged right through the door to the cell, spinning to face the opening and sinking down into a corner.

"Cave, close cell door three." It was Bruce who commanded it. A wall of force field lasers sprung up from emitters in the floor, truly trapping Jason in the confined space. He could still see out, past the laser doors and the reinforced glass wall of the cell, the one that showed the rest of the cave. Jason let out a shaking breath, head falling back against the wall.

His body was trembling, probably because he was still trying to quell the rage, stay in control. And he'd still fight, until he couldn't anymore. Bruce had plucked the dart up, vanishing into the science lab so he could analyze the the blasted thing.

Jason realized that he was trembling, fingers digging into his biceps so hard that rivulets of blood were sliding down his arm. The walls were closing in, getting tighter, spinning. He wanted to kill something, the urge was beyond ignoring, like an addiction. He'd gone through pit withdrawal once, and it was a horrific process. Detoxing from insanity had taken months, just close to a year. He couldn't -wouldn't- go through it again. He released his arms, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes, taking a shuddering breath as tears spilled down his cheeks.

_I'm not in my coffin. I'm not in my coffin. I'm not in my coffin._

He repeated it like a mantra, hoping that maybe saying it just enough times would make the feelings go away. He flinched when he suddenly saw the pitch black of his wooden coffin. A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of it. His hand lashed out, only to be caught by another, slightly larger one. Bruce was kneeling _in the cell_ in front of him.

"What are you-"

"Easy, Jay." Bruce murmured. "It's okay."

"Get out." Jason growled, hate swelling up. Why? Why did he have to hate him? " _Get out."_

"No. You won't hurt me." Bruce ordered, yes an order, but also an assurance. "I need to get some blood." Bruce gestured to a tray on the edge of the bed, and Jason flinched. He hated needles, always had. Over the years, he'd gotten over the fear, but he wasn't sure if he could handle it _now._ "Give me your arm."

" _No."_

Bruce narrowed his eyes slightly. "Then I guess I won't be leaving." He knew trying to play the 'yes no' game was pointless. And Jason was struggling just to reason with himself, much less Bruce. So he switched tactics. Perhaps it was childish, to bribe Jason. But it was probably his best bet. Bruce realized he'd be sitting for a while when Jason folded his arms stubbornly and sank down against the wall, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

His eyes were wildly green, unlike the muted blue green they'd been more recently. He identified the liquid in the dart as water straight from one of the pits. More than likely, it had caused traces of the pit -more specifically the affects of the pit- still in Jason's system to make themselves known again. Jason always struggled with anger issues, pit enhanced anger issues even; but this was the worst it had ever gotten.

Bruce watched carefully as Jason's gaze narrowed. "Bruce. Get out."

"Not until I get that blood sample." Bruce replied. "I want to help you, Jay."

" _Bullcrap!"_ Jason seethed, leaping to his feet and completely forgetting everything but the pompous, stuck up, emotionally constipated, brick wall sitting on his cot. "If you had _wanted_ to help, you would have killed the Joker!" Jason growled. "You would have brought me home instead of trying to _kill_ me!" He jabbed a finger against Bruce's chest, haze completely taking over. "You would have said 'Hi son, I'm so _glad_ you're alive! But _nooooo_ Heaven _forbid_ Bruce Wayne actually care about anything _other_ than his freaking little town!"

Bruce, well Bruce looked phased. But the glimmer of pain in his eyes faded. "You're right." The man replied, standing so he and Jason were at eye level. "I didn't handle it right. I know it. You know it. Your brothers-"

"-not my-'

"Yes your brothers, know it. Even the league knows it. Believe me, Jay. I _know_ I hurt you, in horrible unforgivable ways." His hands latched onto Jason's shoulders, and the boy jerked to free himself, to no avail.

" _Let me go_." Jason growled.

"No." Bruce replied, pulling him close and trapping him again, this time in a hug. Jason could kill him, right here, right now. That was entirely possible, but he was hoping that his Jason, the one that he'd come to know post-pit-insanity was still fighting. Jason was shaking, hands pushing against Bruce's chest and stomach to free himself, to no avail. Bruce didn't let him go. "I'm never letting you go again."

It was a solid thirty seconds before Jason gave up, hands hanging limply. "I hate this cell." He whispered finally, and Bruce knew it was _his_ Jason speaking, though his voice was tight, as if control was hard to keep. "I'm gonna go crazy in here."

"I'm doing everything I can." Bruce assured, releasing Jason and standing back, hands still resting on the boy's shoulders. Jason was still shaking, but he lifted his arm, palm up. Bruce took that as permission. He quickly swept Jason's jacket sleeve and spandex sleeve up to the crook of his elbow, grabbing a cleaning wipe from the tray and wiping the injection site.

Jason shuddered and fought not to jerk when Bruce quickly shoved the needle in. The old bat pulled the plunger back, blood filling the tube before he pulled the needle out and held a cotton swab over the crimson beads welling up from the tiny hole.

"Bruce, this was a mistake. I shouldn't have- I-I should have just... waited it out in my apartment. I can't thi... Can't think... I-"

"Easy; breathe." He reached up, putting a hand on the side of Jason's cheek. The boy's eyes narrowed, but fear danced in their depths. "You said it yourself. It was either _this_ cell, or a cell in Arkham. I'm going to figure this out, and you _will_ be free again." Bruce promised with surprising sincerity. "And you aren't alone. You won't be in this cell forever."

"Lies." Jason growled, eyes clouding over in a way Bruce had never seen before. The boy jerked back. "You enjoy seeing me locked up, where I can't hurt anyone. It's what you always wanted."

"If it's what I always wanted," Bruce replied carefully. "Than you'd be in Arkham. You would have been a long time ago." He picked up the tray, opening the forcefield just long enough to slip out.

"Don't turn your back on me!" Jason snarled, slamming a fist into the wall. "Let me out of here, old man!" His voice turned panicked. " _Let me out!!! Come back here!"_

* * *

Jason wasn't sure how long passed. His lucidity came and went, and he was definitely losing chunks of time to the insanity driven haze. It was scary. Maybe Bruce had come back, he wasn't sure. He'd been lucid one moment, and the next Bruce was gone, and the clock on the far wall told him nearly three hours had passed.

He heard footsteps nearby, jolting in surprise. Was it Bruce? No, the steps were too light, too young. He jerked back against the wall when Tim came into view.

"Get out of here, Timbers." Jason croaked, realizing from the rawness of his voice that he'd probably been screaming, probably obscenities, probably at Bruce. Tim shook his head.

"Nope. I'm not allowed in, Bruce's orders. But I still can keep you company."

Jason laughed, a raspy huff at best. He shook his head for emphasis. _The idiot._ It wasn't physical harm Jason feared, but he knew his insanity would try to rip Tim apart verbally. And it wouldn't take much to damage everything Jason had worked so hard for.

" _Please"_ Jason whispered, already feeling the tug of the haze. He felt anger, unrelenting anger. This kid, a replacement, stole his spot, stole his father. Jason shook his head. "I'm not- I'm not worried about b-beating you up. It's... It's what I'll say that... that scares me." Man talking without injecting anger into his tone was difficult.

Tim studied him carefully. "You think I care what your insanity thinks?"

Jason went wide eyed.

"I know what the _sane_ you thinks. I know what the _insane_ you thinks. He thinks I'm worthless, nothing but a replacement, a crappy excuse for a robin. He thinks I'm not worth anything, that I'm stupid, that I should just die. You're forgetting that I've heard it all before. I know he's not important. I don't care what _he_ thinks. He's just an extension of Ra's, and feelings you've long since abandoned. I don't _care._ But I do care about _you._ You're the brother who took me in after scarecrow, agreed to Tutor me, makes sure I get to bed on time, and always has my back. And don't think I've forgotten you're claustrophobic. And that cell's not all _that_ big."

Jason had his eyes closed, willing the pit away, willing the anger to just fade. It wasn't that simple, never had been.

"The league is here in Gotham. Mad Hatter was just found tied up outside Arkham's main gate. And Bruce confirmed the dart that hit you was most certainly one of theirs. We aren't sure what they're up to."

"No surprise there." And it was said with an icy coldness that send shivers down Tim's spine. He realized it was insane Jason, standing there with his eyes narrowed and arms crossed. He shook it off.

"I know, I know. I'm clueless." He acquiesced, knowing the acceptance would through Insane Jason for a loop. The nineteen year old's eyes widened, glazed over appearance fading ever so slightly. "But anyway. Bruce says the dose that got in you was small. We're hoping it'll wear off."

"I _don't._ I hope it stays long enough for me to enjoy tearing you apart."

"You know, I never understood that." Tim replied casually, as if having a conversation with his deranged lunatic of a brother was no big deal. "I mean, sure, I became robin. And I know myself what it's like to be replaced... but... how am I a criminal? As I gather, those are the only people you've ever claimed to want dead. I get hating me and all, but I don't deserve to die."

"You'd be an example, to Bruce." Jason replied icily. "What happens to the replacements. They _die._ we're expendable, we're-"

"Soldiers?"

_"Yes."_

"He took the plaque down." Tim replied pointedly. "Actually, he threw Willis into it saying you weren't that creep's son, and you weren't Bruce's soldier, You remember, don't you?"

Jason furrowed his brow, running a hand through his hair. Tim recognized it as one of Jason's thinking tics, something he did whilst trying to think. Recognition glimmering in his eyes before it was entirely squashed by a mindless fury. "Shut up, _replacement_. So maybe he crashed the memorial. Doesn't mean he doesn't still think it. Lets face it. You and I? We're destined to _die_."

"Whatever you say."

Jason growled, clearly not at all liking the fact that Tim was being passive about their conversation.

"Now, I know you're insane and all, but tell me you still like Pride and Prejudice ." Tim held the book up. "I'll read it to you."

"You're a bigger moron than I took you for." Jason sneered.

"I'll take that as a yes." Tim replied, plopping down against the glass window and opening the book. "Let's see- _'It is a universally acknowledged truth-'_

Jason slammed his fist into the glass. " **Shut up!"**

_"-single man in possession-"_

"Are you _stupid?_ I said shut the _heck_ up!"

"Better question... Are _you_ done? Because I'm reading this, whether you like it or not. It'd be kinda pointless to keep yelling. No one's coming to stop me, and you'll just ruin your voice. I still win either way."

"I really hate you, Replacement."

"I know." Tim replied, "And I don't live for your approval or love. So..." He cleared his throat, lifting the book. Jason was glaring daggers at the back of his head, but he'd plopped down on his bed, arms crossed, cheeks flushed with anger.

"Ahem.... _'It is a universally acknowledged truth that a single man in possession of a good fortune-"_

* * *

_"Tetch has been returned to Arkham."  
_

_"Hmm. Right on schedule then."_

_"Affirmative, Mistress. We're moving to phase two. My men have laid eyes on the target. She's holing up in a condemned diner near Park Row."_

_"Very well, you have permission to engage now that you'll have no outside interference from the Red hood or the Batman's sons. That should make your job a little easier, though be advised... Cassandra Cain is far **more** dangerous than they are."_

_"Understood."_

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

**Disclaimer: This story is inspired by[Blood Lust](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23763268), a one shot written by the author who requested ME to write THIS story- [Shadowassasin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkshardthedestroyer/pseuds/Shadowassasin)**

**She requested this a bit ago, and helped me brainstorm ideas for the first chapter.... thus some core concepts came from her. -All credit where it's totally due- It's really nice because it ties in with this series so well.**

**Please go check her story out at the link above. It's an angsty one shot with a perfectly happy little ending.**

**Also, if anyone has requests for stories in this series (or even in general), I'd love to hear them.**

**Is there a villain you want the bat boys to face? A revelation you want made? Moments of fluff? People you want them to meet? I'm taking any suggestions that aren't based on romance (as usual).**

**Stick around. Because there's more-a-coming in THIS story.**

***Cough* Cass *Cough...***

**PS- I finally read the origin story of this character (at least enough to know what I'm doing)... So... We're introducing Cass; because she's totally awesome.**


	2. Chapter 2

Jason came around again, still perched on the edge of his bed, arms crossed, surprised to see Tim gone. The book and a small tray of food was left sitting on the other side of the glass wall. There was quiet chatter further down in the cave, Dick and Tim, Jason guessed if the pitches of voice were anything to go by. His head was on fire, a deep stabbing pain behind his right eye warning of an upcoming headache. He massaged the bridge of his nose, trying to ease the ache. The room felt even smaller than before, though theoretically, it wasn't possible, and Bruce would do that. This was the same cell, but it still felt impossible to breathe.

He closed his eyes and focused on breathing through the panic attack. He sank into the corner, letting the cool stone press against the back of his head. He opened his eyes, noting the smooth rocky wall, the slab of metal, too much gray, too dark. He shook his head, rattling the thought free before he sucked in a shaking breath and looked beyond the glass prison wall. The green dinosaur, the assorted colors plastered across the butt-ugly joker card Bruce insisted on hanging up there, the copper penny. He exhaled shakily through his nose.

When Dick peeked in a few minutes later, Jason had curled in on himself, looking small and vulnerable in the corner. With the boldness Tim hadn't dared embrace and a direct defiance to Bruce's strict orders to stay out of Jason's cell, Dick dropped the laser door and stepped in. Jason jumped, and a dagger slammed into the wall next to Dick's cheek, bouncing off harmlessly the stone face harmlessly. The oldest Robin didn't even flinch. He just kicked the dagger away before raising both hands.

"Sorry."

"Get lost, Dick." Jason rasped quietly, grabbing at his head when another spike of pain lanced through it. Dick knelt, hands still raised.

"If you want me to, I will." He informed him calmly. "But I'm not scared of you. I can defend myself just fine if you snap. You look kind of miserable right now though."

Jason laughed sardonically, not a touch of humor in his tone. "I'm trapped in a tiny room, only half aw-" He let out a shuddering breath and squeezed his eyes shut. "-half aware of what I'm doing or... or saying. I keep- I keep feeling like I'm in a- liked I'm trapped. I mean." He sighed, recomposing himself. He could feel his brain clouding, but by sheer will power hung on. "I am. But- I-"

"Okay, easy. easy." Dick didn't waist a second squeezing into the tiny space between Jason and the bed. Their shoulders were touching, and Jason was pressed between Dick and the wall, but he let the oldest robin drape his arm lightly over his shoulder. "S'gonna be okay, Littlewing. I promise." Jason twitched, trying to stay in control.

"B looking into the league?" The second boy wonder finally whispered quietly.

"Yup. So far nothing, but we'll figure it out. I'm about to cover the alley, but I thought you might like some company before I go."

Jason hummed quietly, one of those hums that could either mean 'Sure, that sounds wonderful,' or 'You're an idiot.' Dick didn't have long to ponder on it, because Jason finally spoke again. "If I snap... If _he_ comes out... Are you gonna cuddle him into submission?"

Dick laughed softly, arm tightening over the second robin's shoulders. "That's kinda the idea. But you seem to have a handle on him."

"Not really." Jason admitted with a shudder. "I'm losing time."

"We'll figure it out."

"I hope so."

* * *

Gotham was quiet tonight, far too quiet for Dick's liking. The dim stars twinkled far above, muted by the glow of the city, but not entirely blotted out. Dick usually marveled at them, trying to pick out constellations as he ran, but tonight his mind was a whirlwind of theory and speculation.

What did the League want? Why target Jason? Why break Tetch out and then put him back a few hours later?

Bruce was trying to get a hold of Talia, demand answers. Dick didn't suspect it would have a high rate of success. If the league was here, the Demon's daughter wouldn't give Bruce the advantage of stopping them. Her loyalty was to Ra's above all things, and though she'd been willing to forego the rules when it came to Damian, Bruce himself got no preferential treatment. Talia couldn't afford both it and her life.

On the flip side, she might have some answer for fixing Jason; but Dick suspected that Talia wouldn't open up until after the league had gotten what they wanted. Which was what? Once again, why knock the Red hood out? A distraction? Most likely. The League had to know that they were short handed at the moment. Dick spent a lot of his time in Bludhaven, and that left only Red Hood, Robin, and Red Robin. They likely knew that if danger arose, Dick would come back to help Gotham; but that if the League attacked, the bats would also pull Robin out of the fight.

With Hood out of his mind, Robin benched, and Batman AWOL, that left two of them to keep the city safe.

With those thoughts at the forefront of his mind, Dick bit his lip and touched down on the outskirts of Park Row.

This was Jason's segment of town. He and the people here had some sort of... connection. Perhaps it was Crime Alley patriotism that bound them all together. 'We live together, suffer together, die together' as one talented street musician from this section of town had once said. He knew the few decent people who lived in this area had Jason's back one hundred percent. They'd even thrown cans to scare off Batman back when things between him and Hood hadn't been so cordial.

He couldn't help but dread the reception he'd get from the ornery Gothamites who inhabited _this_ particular pit of sin.

* * *

"Todd."

Jason jolted, glancing up with hazy green eyes. Damian folded his arms across his chest, remaining stoicly planted on the other side of the glass. Despite his short stature and narrow frame, the kid was imposing. His face twisted into an almost natural scowl, arms folded, icy blue eyes narrowed.

"If it isn't the baby-bat." Jason scoffed. "Come to grace my presence have you?"

"Hardly. I came to see how badly the pit had affected you. It seems that the reaction was minor compared to your former insanity."

"Yet I still want to kill you."

Damian quirked an eyebrow. "Hardly. If you truly wanted me dead, you would have tried harder the first time. There's a piece of you _always_ fighting the depraved aspects of your insanity. It is why you've failed to kill Drake and I in the past. Because you _can't._ And even _that_ was _before_ you came to call us brothers. I don't fear you, Todd."

"You _should!"_ Jason snapped.

Damian shrugged slightly.

"Man you are _so much_ like Bruce." Jason growled. And it was true. He could so much of his father -former father-figure in the kid. Heck, they even had the same eyes. Anger flared in Jason's mind, a cold green hatred that blossomed up in an attempt to blot out the love his weak sane minded side had carefully guarded for so long. It didn't work, not fully, but he could revel in the warm embrace of furious anger. "I wonder if you inherited his terrible fathering skills too... Guess we'll find out in a few years. If I let you live that long."

"Does he let you down often?" Damian asked curiously, though he knew the answer. Jason opened his mouth to reply with something Damian suspected was along the lines of 'Of course he does!' or 'What do you think.' But no noise came out. The older teen wrinkled his nose and lowered his head, undoubtedly shifting through more recent memories. "I know your anger. You feel betrayed, hurt, angry. A lot of it is the pit, but the pain from the pit has roots in the mind and heart. And despite the fact that you've forgiven him-"

Jason opened his mouth to interject.

"-that pain has not gone away. You should discuss it with father."

"Pfft, sure, right. After all the pain he's caused, I'll just go running back to daddy over a few hurt feelings. Give me a break."

Damian quirked his lips. Because, while this wasn't the Jason he'd grown to grudgingly admire over the past few months, those words sounded strikingly familiar, back in the very first days Todd spent on Batman's... sort of good side. "As I recall Todd, you were the one encouraging _me_ not too long ago to give father a chance to redeem himself. And he is." Jason furrowed his brow. "I believe your exact words were _'You give him a chance. Right now you accept the fact that he's made a mistake, but the people he's hurt have forgiven him. So you forgive him. We both know you love him; and he sure as heck loves you. More than you could ever know... He made a mistake, possibly two if we're gonna lump Dick in there. But I've made a lot more; you've made a lot more. Yet he's still handing out chances to us. So we return the favor. I mean, we owe it to him to do the same..."_

It was odd for Damian to use Todd's vernacular and American idioms; but it got the point across. Jason had fallen silent, and though the haze hadn't left his eyes, he was lost in whatever jumbled up thoughts he could piece together.

After a moment, Damian unfolded his arms. "We made a promise to each other, Todd." Jason's eyes narrowed as Damian approached the door, reaching up to the manual override the opened the doors. "That we would stick together."

The lasers dropped.

"And I trust you."

* * *

Jason's mind cleared once more; but rather than the cold walls of his cell, the second Robin found himself staring into the starry night sky.

He was on a Gotham City rooftop, the sounds of traffic bouncing off brick and glass, echoing through the chilly air. Already, his breaths were coming out in pants. He'd been running.

Jason nearly panicked, staggering back without much thought towards where his foot was going. Chilling pellets of rain sprinkled from the heavens above, drenching his leather jacket and torn khakis. "Crap." He breathed, glancing around pointedly. Was this a dream? Some kind of joke? His hood was gone, rain slicked hair clinging to his forehead.

_Oh my head...._

It was pounding, ears ringing, eyes throbbing. He reached up to try and quell the pain by rubbing the bridge of his nose, nearly recoiling in terror and disgust when he looked down. His heart leapt in his throat. 

His shirt was splattered with crimson blood.

His hands were soaked in it.

* * *

* * *

"Damian!" Bruce shouted. He knew the _second_ that door had been manually opened. And he was torn between being livid and succumbing to terror.

What he saw nearly took his breath away. Damian was sitting in a small sea of red, covered in it. A red cloth was in the boy's hand as he tried to mop up the substance from the cave floor. Said boy glanced up sharply at Bruce's call.

"Damian!" Bruce shouted again, panicked. He knelt next to the boy, lightly grabbing his shoulders and looking him over.

"I'm fine father. Todd accidentally knocked over a can of unsealed red paint as he left." Damian pointed with a red coated hand to the cart of painting supplies Alfred had indeed left sitting out. The paint can of crimson red paint had been knocked off the cart, now laying empty by one of the cave's support pillars. Damian, true to his word, was uninjured.

But Jason was gone.

Anger and worry for his other son bubbled up in place of the fear. "What were you _thinking?"_ He snapped. When Damian flinched, he released the boy's shoulders from his hold and took a step back. "Damian, I gave _strict_ orders that you weren't to go in, and Jason wasn't to be let out!"

"I'm aware." Damian replied quietly.

"Then _why?_ He's dangerous right now."

"And yet, I'm unharmed." The youngest son of the bat replied pointedly. "He needs time to clear his head, get his own thoughts in order."

"Oh _Damian_ ," Bruce grumbled. "He could have down that from his _cell_... And now he could _kill_ someone, a criminal! He's not in his right mind." Bruce growled. "I promised we'd keep him from harm and from harming others. And now he's out there completely unrestrained!"

"Father, I have ample knowledge of the pit." Bruce paused. "And he's angry, and hurt, and rightly so... But he's hardly as bad off as he was before... Better than both the first time he was doused in the pit, and better than when he was first brought in last night. As difficult as it is for you to understand, I trust him to make the correct choice. It may take some reasoning in his mind, but I suspect he will. He's much stronger than any of us have given him credit for."

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a tired sigh. "Clean this up, Damian. I have to contact Dick. We'll see if we can't intercept him."

* * *

Jason stared at his bloody hands. _No no no no no no._ He reeled.

He barely registered the shadows moving on a far off rooftop, but notice he did. Mind instantly compartmentalizing, he shoved the pain to the back burner, anger instantly clouding his thoughts once more. He recognized the contours, design, and weapons typically associated with the league of assassins. And they had caused him quite a bit of pain, pain he'd locked up. 

He grit his teeth and growled, mind clouding with anger and pain.

They'd created a monster out of him, and that monster would be their undoing.

He was going to tear them apart.

* * *

**TBC**

**Next chapter- Enter Cass!**


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